


Royal Players

by Book_of_Kells



Series: Arda Club [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Day 1: Balls/Gatherings, Fígrid February, Gen, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House Parties can be fun but a house full of royalty???</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Players

**Author's Note:**

> When I first saw you  
> From across the room  
> I could tell that you were curious (oh, yeah)  
> Girl, I hope you're sure  
> What you're looking for
> 
> ~ One Direction - Perfect ~

 

 

Nobody likes a gate crasher, particularly a woman crasher with her legs clamped shut at the knee. The snap back of the pocket doors revealed their little poker game to the celebrants that mixed down the hall. Men gave her odd looks as they walked behind her, mostly staring at her ass. Wild giggling surfed into the entryway from the billiards room not far away. Fili felt his breath lock in his chest as the dim lighting framed the woman in glowing relief. Standing a head taller than him, the idea of looking up at her gave him frisky thoughts.

If she had sauntered in with an open mouth and a foot of enhanced cleavage showing like the other servers, the old boys at the table might have looked the other way. Then unzipped their flies to give her a ‘donation’. Hell, if she had worn something slit up to her tonsils, the guys might have just sent her some evil looks at the very least. But she didn’t, and the grumbling started at once when they realized she wouldn’t be getting down on her knees for any servicing. It was the modus operandi of the over titled and extremely over-indulged.

“The pink party is on the second floor, Princess Sigrid.” Eomer advised, recognizing and introducing her to the rest at the same time as he raked up his win. A couple of thousand dollars and Pippin’s Christophe Claret was an impressive haul.

His cousin, Theodred, snorted a drunken laugh as he lit up his cigar. The oppressive cloud of smoke fought for air space amongst the arrogance and testosterone. An archaic notion of architectural separation divided the men from the women after a meal, so that they might relax amongst peers of similarly rich backgrounds. The ‘gentleman’s room’ as the basement was known, allowed them to be as superior as they wished and as hopelessly crude. It wouldn’t do for the wives, fiancés or convenient females to find out that the servants below stairs were in fact call girls.

The villa overlooked the sparkling Mediterranean with anchorage for even the largest yacht. Gated, patrolled with rabid security, it was the perfect haven right next door to the best club scene for the entitled and naughty. Gandalf was known throughout their royal set as a friend to all the deposed and displaced. As an added bonus, Paparazzi were shot with paintball guns if they came to close to his house. Most of the time with fiendish glee.

The Arda club as the royals called themselves were elitist to their core, with the bluest blood to be found anywhere. Many could trace their lineage back thousands of years in unbroken lines with little crowns next to the names. There were seven of them around the large table with more of their kind dotted throughout the house party, each with a title coupled together with some geographical landmass. Theodred, Prince of Rohan, Faramir, Prince of Ithilien. Some of the titles were current, some were older names of ancient times. Pippin, son of the Thrane of Tuckborough, was little more than a farmer now. But they were royal, each and every one with some better heeled than others.

Fili took her in, the long column of her throat, the straight spine. Thick blond hair piled high on her head to cascade down her back in an artful tangle of curls. The pretty bronze dress that wrapped around her curves like a Christmas gift, giving her blond hair a golden feel. Chandelier diamonds twinkled at her ears but there was nothing at her neck to distract from the warm bosom displayed. Unfortunately, she was an invader, and from the steely glint in her eye, a most determined one.

“So it is, Lord Eomer, Prince Theodred.” Sigrid nodded to them both as she walked in and closed the doors behind her. “I get tired of hearing how their personal trainers or valets are more attentive lovers than the accountant, masseuse or whatever male. Mind if I take this seat?”

Faster than he could have thought, she eased her way into the thick padded leather armchair. Elrohir and Aragorn wore slightly confused expressions but their thoughts were elsewhere. Elrohir’s sister, Arwen who happened to be Aragorn’s wife, was upstairs in the pink party as it was called for the princesses or ladies of some lordling. It was obvious that the two men wondered what male the Lady Arwen might be bragging about if Sigrid was telling the truth.

Fili pipped in, setting down his vodka. “That’s my brother’s chair.”

The brown eyes looked up at him, holding him with loving care rather than the challenge he expected. Whiskey was that color, properly aged with the same smoky ambiance that left you thirsting for more it. She would be a warm soothing touch at the first but with a heated finish to burn a trail though him. This young princess was a bonfire and the smile that pulled at those full lips was the match that started it all.

“I think he will be a while.” She opened the sparkly gold wristlet to pull out a wad of cash. “My bodyguard, Tauriel, is very very thorough when it comes to checking for weapons. So, you might as well deal me in for a few hands.”

Probably the redhead he had spotted earlier upon their arrival. If it was, it would definitely be a while with Kili wanting her to make sure there wasn’t anything in his trousers. Dressing in uniform black as all the other protection details, it just made her scarlet locks that much more noticeable. His brother had practically quivered with excitement, only kingly uncle Thorin’s restraining hand kept him from bounding off. Shaking his head because Kili wouldn’t stop until he knew whether the curtains matched the drapes, Fili shuffled the cards.

“Big blind is a grand, I have the button.” Fili started dealing out cards as the grumbling continued.

Sigrid for her part said nothing, dropping the bills in the pot with the others. Comments like ‘stay in her place’ and ‘manly games’ floated in the stale air. She won the second hand with magnums and cherries but no fanfare from the boys at the table. Aragorn tossed back his bourbon and made to leave. His mind was on his very lovely wife and the possibility of who she might be banging instead of him. Fili noted the pursed lips trying not to smile across the way as Sigrid arranged her winnings.  

Theodred followed not long after, chasing a server with a handful of twenties. The old leach would get lucky if he threw enough money at them. Elrohir stepped out to take a call, leaving another open chair. Fili won the next hand, cleaning out the last of Pippin’s bankroll. His father would cut off his allowance for the losses, making the kid work in the family plantations as punishment. The lad looked morose as he left, Eomer gamely told him he could buy back the watch once he was flush again.

“Lord Eomer, a little bird told me that you have been in the company of Princess Lothiriel.” Sigrid asked as she folded the next hand.

The big Marshall looked at her warily. “What of it?”

“She was saying earlier that she had lunch with Elrohir and he invited her to Rivendell for Easter. She was most excited.” The smile she sent him was sugary until she looked over her shoulder at the door. “He _is_ taking a long time on that call.”

Eomer’s head snapped to the door, snorting in competitive annoyance. It was no secret that Lothiriel had dated the son of Lord Elrond Peredhil when they had read law at Oxford. But they had gone their separate ways at the end. Eomer though fancied the dark beauty from Dol Amroth principality with unnatural zeal. He was out of the chair and heading for the door, crashing into a very stoned Faramir on his way out.

“You might want to go with him, Faramir dear.” Sigrid told him as she took the button and the cards. “He was rather bullish and it is your cousin in any event.”

Faramir shrugged, grabbed his money and lighter before heading out the door. Fili sat back in his chair as the woman shuffled the cards. The silence was a thick blanket, not even the thumping Techno music from upstairs made its way through the stone floor. The villa was Italianate where everything else in Ibiza was Spanish, built on solid rock.

“What’s your game, princess? And don’t try to tell me it’s poker.” Fili asked her at last. “You managed to clean out the room in less than 45 mins.”

The smile was genuine as merriment flashed in her eyes. “Had 15 mins to spare. The pink party didn’t think I could do it.”

Fili laid his head back and laughed. The ladies upstairs might want to know about the gentleman’s room but none had ever invaded. Social convention was too ingrained for them to try it. Until now. Sigrid wasn’t their normal cut from a pattern, no paper doll princess. Her family had only come back into their title after some legal wrangling over the Island nation of Dale and its sovereignty from England and Ireland who each have a claim. Educated outside the public sector like he and Kili, she was much more down to earth than her cronies.

“But you didn’t.” Fili told her as the laughter died down. “I’m still here.”

“Right where I want you.” The smile was sexy as she dealt out the hand. “What will be the bet since it's just us two?”

Daring him, she held his gaze and like Eomer, he couldn’t resist a challenge. He pretended to ponder it for a moment, he thought to shock her sensibilities. “How about your panties, Princess of Dale?”

“Silly Prince Fili, you know nothing of the princesses.” Sigrid looked at her cards with a big grin. “We never wear panties to these parties.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am soooo late getting this posted.. I had no internet while I was out of town !!
> 
> Happy Figrid February !  
> Magnums and Cherries is two pair of 4s and 6s.
> 
> I own nothing but love to play with the characters lol


End file.
